


Black Blinding Nightmare

by The_Exile



Category: Mugen Kouro | Infinite Space
Genre: Apocalyptic Doom, Community: tic_tac_woe, Gen, Late Game, Mass Death, Space Battles, Spoilers, random phantasy star online reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12933291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: Yuri's thoughts on returning to the Sol system.





	Black Blinding Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> for bingo square 'planetary resources exhausted'

Yuri woke up from a dream where he had been standing in a gently rolling meadow of colourfully sprinkled flowers on soft grass. He had walked up to a bench under a tree, when everything shifted. He was suddenly in the middle of a blasted wasteland, a gale howling all around him, throwing up radioactive dust, and there were... things... made of the raw stuff of the planet itself, coming out of the ground, swarming him...

He woke up and hit his head on the ceiling of his tiny bunk. He immediately hated whoever designed the starship's interior layout and then remembered it was him. The battle stations alert was wailing throughout the ship. The things on the radar looked like the stuff of his nightmares except one was the size of his ship and was spitting out smaller ones as drones.

The battle was harrowing. They lost one of the smaller escort frigates. Several hundred crew members, gone, returned to stardust. Probably to be recycled by Them. At least those had been the gatekeepers. They were almost through the portal.

Several battles later, Yuri saw their homeland for the first time. Sol, the cradle of humanity, the home solar system from a time lost to history.

He finally found out what a solar system looked like it once it was so drained of resources that they had used up all their subatomic particles, when they could, and had, strip mine the very fabric of the Universe and craft it into anything they desired. Mostly it was complete darkness, devoid of any stars, gas clouds, dust, anything. Some of it was lifeless rock that still burned with the fires of its own entropy death as reality still unraveled around it. The things crafted by its reshaping were slick black like oil, ridged like ancient fossils, near impenetrable. They weren't just ships, they were neither living nor dead, biological nor mechanical, they were everything, united in death at its primal level, probably the population of the solar system as well. 

And it all wanted him dead. Him in person, the one glitch in their calculations, the malign cell chased by antibodies.

He wanted something from it, too, and space pirates took what they wanted. He wasn't just a space pirate, he was the highest ranking space pirate, with his own Corsair-class battleship.

"Charge up main cannon, deploy all drones," he roared over the intercom, "Buckle up, ladies, we're goin' in hot!"


End file.
